Lonely Beginning
by The Girl Who Questions Sleep
Summary: Peer into the forgotten childhood of Johnny "Nny" C. Rated T for violence and swearing.
1. Chapter 1: Two In The Morning

**Author's Note: WHEEEEE I AM BACK! The long promised rewrite of _Lonely__ Beginning_** **is here! Well, the first chapter is here. Anyway, there should no longer be any need to rewrite anything, for I will never rush to finish chapters again. Thank you whoever is reading this for waiting. I decided to finish this instead of starting my essay on love and _Romeo and Juliet_, which is due December 1st, just for you... and my friend Selena. Well I'll let you guys go. ****Remember, I don't own JtHM. Sir Jhonen Vasquez has that amazing honor. **

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><p>Johnny tossed and turned in his bed; sleep refused to come upon him. The creaking of the bed was barely audible, for he was quite underweight for his age. He turned on his side once again to glance at the clock on his nightstand; the glowing red numbers indicated that it was two in the morning, and he was wide awake. Johnny let out a sigh before lying on his back to stare up at the ceiling.<p>

Crash! The sound of shattering glass filled his ears, startling him. Someone had smashed a window open downstairs. Frightened and in search of comfort, Johnny jumped out of bed and raced over to his parents' room, but he bumped into someone in the process. He looked up, slightly terrified; his heart pounded in terror. To his relief, he looked up to see, rather than a stranger, his father. Johnny's eyes showed terror and desperation for words of comfort.

"Daddy, what was that noise?" he asked in a quavering voice.

"I haven't the slightest idea, Nny," Mr. C. replied, adjusting his glasses. Johnny's eyes grew wide. Those were not the he had wanted to hear, not at all. Sensing his son's fear and dismay, Mr. C. knelt down and embraced Johnny in a reassuring hug. "Don't worry; I'll make sure everything will be okay." Now those were the very words Johnny wanted to hear. Mr. C. stood up and quickly went downstairs to investigate the source of the noise, leaving his son feeling just a tad bit better.

"Johnny," said a soft, feminine voice. Johnny looked over his shoulder to see his mother standing in the doorway to the master bedroom. "Nny, come over here."

Johnny silently nodded and went over to his mother, hugging her. Mrs. C. patted his back and led him into the room. Johnny let go of his mother and sat at the edge of his parents' bed. His mother sat next to him and stroked his messy, blue-black hair.

"Don't be afraid, Johnny. I'm sure Daddy will take care of every…" her words of comfort were abruptly interrupted by the sound of breaking furniture and her husband's angry yelling. Although the words could be barely made out, it was evident that they were tainted by fear.

Soon afterwards, footsteps pounding upstairs were heard and Mr. C. came running into the room. Panting, he slammed the double doors closed and locked them shut.

"There's a maniac downstairs!" he shouted.

"What?" Mrs. C. exclaimed, her facial features showing tremendous fear and worry. "Did you call the police?"

"There wasn't any time!" he shouted. "Not to mention that she broke the phone as she tried to slit my throat!"

"She's armed?" Mrs. C shrieked. Her pale face looked as if she had seen a ghost.

"Yes, now help me hide Johnny under the bed!"

Johnny stared wide-eyed at his parents as they kneeled down and gently shoved him under the bed. He immediately started to crawl out from under the queen-sized bed.

"No, Johnny. This is for your safety," Mrs. C. said, trying not to sound frightened. She ran her hand through his blue-black hair for what surely would be the last time. Mr. C., who was kneeling next to his wife, reached out to rub Johnny's back in attempt to calm him down. Johnny looked back and forth at his parents in pure confusion. He did not understand why they were doing this, waiting for their imminent death instead of doing all they can to prevent it.

Whoever had broken into the house began pounding at the doors, trying to break them down. A scream of pure frustration pierced the tense atmosphere. By the sound of it, the lunatic was a young female, a girl barely in her teens. Johnny wondered how such a young girl could be so frightening and dangerous.

"Be still, Nny," Mr. C whispered. Mr. and Mrs. C. knelt down and kissed the top of Johnny's head.

The girl behind the door let out a screech of annoyance. Johnny's eyes were glued to the doors in horror. Suddenly, a knife pierced the door, the shiny blade visible on the other side of the door.

"We love you, Johnny," Mrs. C. whispered, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She let go of the bed skirt, leaving Johnny out of sight.

In the darkness, Johnny's thin frame trembled in fright. The trembling only grew worse as he heard the door break down. He was shocked that such a young girl could have such strength. Slowly, he lifted the bed skirt just enough for him to see while remaining somewhat hidden.

He peered up at his parents; he was facing their back. The married couple were standing up, hugging each other and waiting to be finished off. In front of them, standing in the doorway, was an insane looking girl.

Johnny was sure that the image of the young maniac would haunt his dreams forever. The girl wore a black, long sleeved shirt; black jeans; and black boots with buckles. Her fiery red, waist length hair was unkempt and clashed with her sickly pale skin. Her bright green eyes had a glint of pure insanity in them. Her smile bared her pearly white teeth; it was the grin of cruel derangement. The long, jagged knife she had stabbed the door with was gripped in her left hand so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

"I don't mean to intrude," she said, "but you see, this was the first house I saw." She reached down and withdrew a butterfly knife from her boot. "It's nothing personal, really. So please, do accept my sincerest apologies."

Mr. and Mrs. C. tightened their grip on each other. Under the bed, Johnny's lower lip trembled as he fought the urge to cry for his parents. He understood how important it was for him to be silent.

The maniacal girl cocked her head to the side and looked at the couple in front of her in confusion. "Why aren't you two struggling? They usually struggle, you know, if I didn't knock 'em out cold… No matter!" Not even leaving the couple an opportunity to answer, she charged forward, drew her butterfly knife up in the air, and plunged it down through Mrs. C.'s shoulder. Johnny's mother let out a piercing scream as she dropped to the ground in pain. Blood seeped from the fresh wound.

Johnny bit his lip to keep himself from screaming. Tears began to roll down his pale cheeks. He longed to be there by his mother's side and help her, but he was an obedient child and stayed put.

Mr. C. rushed down to his wife's side and wrapped his arms around her, careful not to touch her wound. He looked up at the girl, who was laughing maniacally. "Monster!" he yelled. Her expression contorted to one of fury. The grip on her jagged knife tightened and she took deep, heavy breaths.

"Monster?" she hissed. "You call _me_ a monster?" She pierced the knife into his chest, aiming for his heart. Mr. C. gasped and squeezed his eyes shut from the tremendous pain. His knees grew weak, but he remained standing up. He drew in short, jagged breaths. "Try being me for one day, and you will realize that I am not the monster in this mother fucking story!" The young teen grabbed the handle of the knife and pulled it down his torso. He let out a hoarse cry before collapsing to the ground. Mrs. C. screamed for her husband, who now lay lifeless before her in a pool of his own blood.

The tears that rolled down Johnny's cheeks came down harder. His thin body trembled violently and his heart ached for his father. He wondered greatly why she was doing this to his parents. They had done nothing wrong, and she had acknowledged that. So what was her true reason for this unforgivable act?

The girl turned her head to look down at Mrs. C. "I'm sorry about your husband," she said. "I shouldn't have allowed that mere comment to get to me like that; I have heard it many times in the past."

Mrs. C. shook her head. "Are you really sorry?" she whispered. "You killed him so mercilessly."

"I assure you that I am. I am also sorry for your death, as well."

Mrs. C. looked up in horror just as the girl pulled the butterfly knife out from her shoulder. She cried out in pain, but the scream was cut off by the knife slitting her throat, cutting off her air supply. Crimson fluid spurted out from the wound. Her body went limp and collapsed to the ground next to her husband.

"Well, they're dead now," the girl muttered as she cleaned the knife with her shirt. She reached down and pulled her jagged knife out of Mr. C.'s corpse. After slipping the still bloodied knife into her boot, she walked out of the room for a brief moment and walked back in carrying a metal bucket. She knelt down by the corpses and set the bucket next to her. Gingerly, she pulled Mrs. C.'s body onto her lap and tilted the bucket so that her blood would seep into it.

Johnny let go of the bed skirt; he had had enough. He closed his eyes and began to sob silently. The young boy could not believe that he had witnessed his parents' murder. They had just had a splendid afternoon drawing and drinking hot chocolate.

"That should do it," the girl said aloud. Johnny lifted the bed skirt to see the girl walk out of the room with a bucket filled with blood in one hand and the butterfly knife in the other. He remained under the bed until he heard the front door close.

Slowly, he crawled out from under the bed to the lurid scene. He felt his hand touch something warm. Looking down at his hand, he realized it was blood. Taking a deep breath, he ignored the blood and crawled forward until he was in between his parents.

His parents were as pale as the moon and as still as statues. Johnny glanced at his father, who was in a pool of his own blood. His blue-black hair was caked with his the crimson liquid. His glasses, whose lenses had drops of blood on them, were slipping from his face. The sight of his open chest cavity made Johnny nauseous, so he turned his head away from his father and looked at his mother. The blood from her throat was seeping onto her wavy, chocolate brown hair. Her cerulean eyes were open, lifeless yet showing tremendous horror. They reminded Johnny of beautifully crafted glass orbs.

A sob escaped from inside Johnny. Tears rushed down his cheeks. A seven year old Johnny C. was now an orphan.

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><p><strong>Better, no? For those of you who have read the now deleted chapters, did you recognize the murder? Just another reason why I like this chapter better than the original. <strong>**I hope you enjoyed this update. REVIEW! Review or I will send Alucard to get you! If you've read Hellsing, you know who I'm talking about.**


	2. Chapter 2: Aunt Vera

**Author's Note: YAY ANOTHER CHAPTER! Sorry for the delay, but school got in the way. **

**Mr. Eff: And laziness.**

**Me: Yeah, that too**.

**D-Boy: And rock concerts.**

**Me: Oh, I guess there's that too... Anyway, I found a way to make it up to you guys. Hey, where's Nny? I need him here.**

**Nny: I'm right here.**

**Me: Good. I went shopping with my best friend Selena and we got you three the best gift ever! SELENA BRING THE PRESENTS!**

**Selena: *walks in with a paper shopping bag from a department store and pulls out three fuzzy, pink sweaters* Here they are! Surprise!  
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**Me: SURPRISE! Just for you!**

**Selena: And don't worry about how much we spent on these. They were on sale.**

**Me: Clearance to be exact!  
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**Nny, Mr. Eff, and D-Boy: ...**

**Me: Well, while we try to get them to try their pink, fuzzy sweaters on, go ahead and read this new chapter. I'll do the disclaimer today, I guess. I do not own JtHM, just this plot and any OCs that pop up. Yup.  
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><p>Johnny stood in front of his former house, gazing upon it for what would surely be the last time. The icy wind that blew around him turned his blue black hair into an inclement sea and the overcast sky above foreshadowed an imminent storm. Despite the chill in the air, he remained as still as a statue.<p>

Yellow caution tape segregated the house from the rest of the neighborhood. Police officers were constantly coming in and out of the crime scene. The windows showed no sign of a single soul ever living in the residence. Quite a peculiar thing it was, how little time it took for the house to appear abandoned.

Johnny's eyes began to glisten with fresh tears. He could have sworn he had shed the last of his tears hours ago. As a lone tear trickled down his cheek, he knew he had just proved himself wrong. His thin body began to tremble as a sob threatened to escape. He did his best to hold it back, to be strong, but it was an impossible task. Slowly sinking to the ground, he allowed more tears to fall. With his knees to chest and his head buried in his knees, he began to sob once again, his body shaking violently.

Johnny was still trying to process the fact that he would never see his parents ever again. The whole situation just seemed so unrealistic, like a nightmare that was impossible to escape. His heart ached for his loving parents. It was all just too much to bear.

Johnny felt someone tap his shoulder. He sniffed and wiped his eyes with a black sleeve. He knew it was a police officer. Whether they were asking him questions about the murder or expressing their "sympathy", they were coming up to him all day. All he wanted was to be left alone, but he knew that was not possible at the moment. He looked up with glistening eyes at the unfamiliar police officer.

"Hey, kiddo," he said in a kind, gentle voice. "Your aunt is here to pick you up."

Johnny glanced over his shoulder and saw a beat up, white car parked on the other side of the street. Next to the car stood a dark haired, pale woman conversing with a police officer. Another police officer was putting boxes with Johnny's possessions into the trunk of the car.

Johnny bit his lip as his heart sank to his stomach. It was his aunt, Vera, just who he had expected. His parents were never quite fond of her, and neither was he. The thought of living with her made Johnny uneasy.

As if sensing Johnny's uneasiness, the police officer knelt down, placed a hand on the little boy's shoulders, and said, "Good luck, kid."

"Thanks," Johnny replied with a small smile.

"No problem," the police officer said as he ruffled Johnny's hair. He then got up and walked away.

Shortly afterward, Johnny began to hear the familiar _click, click, click _of high heeled shoes coming towards him. He kept his gaze on the concrete sidewalk in front of him as the clicking came closer. His heart began to beat faster in response to the slight fear of the woman he knew was waking towards him. Soon, a woman's pale feet clad in shiny black heels stopped right in front of Johnny. Cautiously, he glanced up to see his aunt standing above him. Her facial expression was full of sympathy and her hands were over her heart.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Johnny," Vera said in a gentle voice.

_Does she mean it?_ Johnny thought to himself.

"Oh, look how shaken up you are! You're trembling as you have just seen a ghost. Poor thing."

Johnny hadn't realized he was trembling until then. It was true: he was shaken up. How could he not? He had just witnessed his parents' demise. He had a feeling the gory images would be burned into his mind forever.

"Come on, sweetheart, let's go home," Vera said as she held out a hand to help Johnny up. Johnny grabbed her hand allowed his aunt to help him up.

_Sweetheart?_ he thought. _Since when was she so nice? _You see, Vera wasn't the nicest person out there. There was not a moment that Johnny could remember were Vera was not rude to him or to his parents.

The two began walking towards Vera's old car. As they crossed the street, Vera held Johnny's hand. The kindness emitting from her was strange to Johnny.

"Now don't you worry about a thing, Johnny," Vera said as she unlocked the car and opened the back door for Johnny. "Your stuff is boxed up and in the trunk, you will still be attending the same school, and the police seem to have all the information they need from you."

Johnny nodded and slid into the back seat. Vera shut the door for him and then made her way to her seat. She placed her car keys into the ignition and turned it. The car started with a long groan. For a second, Johnny feared that the car would not start. He felt a wave of relief wash over him as the car started to move. Johnny rested his head back and closed his eyes. He soon felt himself drift to sleep.

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><p>"Get up!"<p>

Johnny eyes opened his eyes and gasped. He looked around at his surroundings and found himself in an unfamiliar car in an unfamiliar neighborhood. He began to panic, but he then realized that he was in his aunt's car which was parked outside her town home.

Johnny rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his fists. A repugnant stench soon made its way to his nostrils; it was the smell of alcohol. Crinkling his nose and glancing around, he realized the interior of the car was filthy. Wine stains, coffer stains, soda stains- all were found throughout the car. Trash from fast food restaurants scattered the floor.

_I must have been really tired to not notice this, _he thought.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" he heard his aunt yell. Immediately, he looked at her and gave her his full attention. Vera had her usual scowl rather than the fake smile she had given the police officers.

"Good, you're awake. We're here, so get out of the car."

Obeying, Johnny quickly took off his seat belt and got off the car.

_That's more like the Vera I know, _Johnny thought.

Vera got off the car soon afterward. "Help me get your stuff from the trunk," she said as she walked over to the trunk of her car. With a twist of another key, she opened the trunk to reveal Johnny's possessions. Vera picked up the first box she saw and walked towards her town home, carelessly leaving Johnny behind.

Johnny walked over to the trunk and peered inside at his boxed possessions. He glanced at the boxes, each labeled in his own sloppy, childish handwriting. A box labeled "art supplies + Teddy" caught his attention. With a weak smile on his face, he reached into the trunk and grabbed the box. His art supplies were the most important objects to him. He then walked towards his aunt's town home, or what he now has to call "home".

Not to his surprise, Johnny discovered that her condo was just as bad as the interior of her car. He stood in the living room by the stairs to the second floor. The room had little more than a sofa, a coffee table, and a TV. On the coffee table sat multiple empty bottles of alcohol. The room had the same stench of alcohol as the car did and something else Johnny couldn't put his finger on.

"Hurry up and come upstairs!" shouted Vera the top of the stairs.

Johnny nodded, though Vera would not see it, and ran up the stairs. When he reached the top, his aunt pointed a bony finger towards one of the two bedrooms.

"That's going to be your bedroom," she said. She then walked into the room and dropped the box she carried onto the ground. Johnny quietly followed her into his new bedroom. The room contained a bed without any sheets, a nightstand right next to the bed, a lamp on top of the nightstand, and a dresser.

"You can start unpacking this while I get the rest of your stuff up here," Vera said.

"Thank you," Johnny said in a barely audible voice. He went over to the box his aunt dropped, which was labeled "clothing", and began to open it. Vera started walking out the room, but turned around as she reached the doorway.

"You don't talk much, do you?" she asked, surprised that Johnny was so calm and quiet. It was not as if she ever seen him shouting and running all over the place, but she had expected to see a small, sobbing mess.

Johnny kept his gaze on the box and shrugged. Vera decided not to let this bother her and left the room.

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><p>"Hey, kid, I'll be out for a bit. Dinner's in the fridge if you get hungry."<p>

Johnny, who had been finishing putting his sheets on his bed, looked up to see his aunt standing in the doorway of his room. She wore a black mini dress with a halter top and black stiletto shoes.

"You… you're leaving me alone?" Johnny asked, surprised she was going out when her sister had died just last night.

"Didn't you hear me?" Vera asked, putting her hands on her hips. "Yes, I am. Don't open the door to anyone and don't leave the house, understand?"

Johnny nodded as he watched his aunt leave them room. He stood there as if he was frozen until he heard Vera's car start and drive off.

"Am I the only one who's upset?" Johnny whispered.

Vera was not fit to be a mother, even less so a legal guardian. The twenty-nine year old liked to spend her nights drinking and getting high in bars or in the comfort of her living room. Because of these habits, she appeared to be ten years older.

_I don't want to be alone…_

Johnny walked over to his box of art supplies. He had put everything in the box on the dresser except for his teddy bear. He picked up the toy and hugged tightly.

"At lease I have you, Teddy," he whispered, closing his eyes. Johnny felt a tear escape his eye lids and run down his cheek. The last thing he wanted was to be all alone, though he preferred to be lonely than to be with his aunt.

Johnny turned around to face his nightstand. On the nightstand was picture frame with a photograph that he cherished. He picked it up and looked at it with a small smile. It was a photograph of him with his parents out in their backyard last summer. His parents were alive and full of energy. The three of them had a big, bright smile and twinkling eyes. He would never have a moment like that ever in his life. The thought made his smile disappear and more tears fall. Johnny clutched the picture with his teddy bear and crawled into bed. He rested his head on his pillow and pulled the navy blue sheets over himself. He allowed the tears to slowly fall. His stomach began to growl, but he ignored it. He felt too sick to eat anyway. Before he knew it, he had cried himself to sleep.

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><p><strong>Yeah, this was more of a filler chapter than anything. I'm not really pleased with it, but I'm just so tired of writing this. I wanted to have this uploaded since December, but I only had a paragraph done at that time. Don't expect another chapter before June. I have projects I need to work on and state testing is coming up. *sigh* On a better note, I have an idea of how I want to start the next chapter, so it should take less time to write. Oh, and Selena was able to get the Doughboys in their fuzzy, pink sweaters. I had to give Johnny a cherry brain freezie to get him into his.<strong>

**Selena: Oh, look how adorable you three look!**

**Mr. Eff: I want to kill you two!**

**D-boy: Yes, go kill yourselves for this atrocious crime!**

**Nny: I would** **kill you two, but Alicia gave me a freezie. I'll spare your lives today. **

**Me: Heh heh, thanks. HEY YOU SAID MY NAME! **

**Nny: Sorry?**

**Anyway... REVIEW! Critical criticism is welcomed** **open arms. I promise the next chapter will be better and things will pick up. I'm getting all excited now x] Remember to review! Oh, how I love reviews! Review or... eh I got nothing. **


	3. Chapter 3: Nightmare

**Author's Note: Hey guys! I'm sorry I made you wait so long for the next chapter, but the last months of school were crazy busy.  
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**D-Boy: I suppose that's understandable, but you have been on summer vacation for a month now.  
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**Me: Okay, you have a point but I-  
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**Mr. Eff: Was lazy?  
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**Me: *looks down in shame* Yes...  
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**D-Boy: And went to more concerts?  
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**Me: Yeah...**

**Nny: You've been to too many of those concerts.**

**Me: Shut up, I'm still pissed at you! **

**Nny: For what? I didn't even say your real name! IT'S A FUCKING PSEUDONYM!  
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**Me: SO? I was going to announce it!  
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**Mr. Eff: Yeah right! You didn't know how you were going to do that!  
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**D-Boy: We were getting tired of waiting.  
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**Me: Whatever. They have a point. ANYWAY, I've been doing the disclaimer lately. MR. EFF, IT'S YOUR TURN!  
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**Mr. Eff: I'm not doing it this time.  
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**Me: *lifts up knife*  
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**Mr. Eff: FINE! The Girl Who Questions Sleep does not own JtHM, blah blah blah!  
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**Me: What he said! This note was rather boring... oh well! ENJOY!**

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><p>"<em>How did I get in here?" Johnny asked himself in a hushed tone filled with fascination. Johnny stood in a room with plain, white walls and a concrete floor. Multiple easels with blank canvases stood in the room, waiting to be painted on. In one corner of the room sat a CD player playing classical music. The notes floated in the air and made their way to his ears. The room was an art studio, and Johnny had it to himself.<em>

_The young boy could vaguely remember the art studio. He could have sworn he had seen the room before, but he couldn't remember when. The room did not reveal any evidence of someone's presence. Johnny could not recall ever entering the room nor having the intention to._

_He shook the thoughts out of his head and walked over an easel located in the middle of the room. Next to the easel was a wooden stool with an empty palette and clean paintbrush sitting on top. Under the stool was a cup of clean water. He looked around the studio in search of paint to fill the palette with. To his surprise, he spotted a glass shelf filled with paint bottles of every color imaginable._

That wasn't in the room when I got here, _Johnny thought to himself. _I wonder how it got there...

_Johnny ignored his thoughts once again and walked over to the shelf with the palette in hand. He looked up at the towering shelf in wonder. There were so many colors for him to choose from. It made him want to paint everything he could think of just so he could try out every color._

I'll just start with some basic colors.

_Johnny proceeded to fill up the palette with paint. Blue, red, yellow, black, and white were the colors he chose. When he was done, he neatly placed the paint bottles on the shelf and walked over to his blank canvas._

Now what should I paint? _he asked himself. He sat down on the concrete floor and mused over his next work of art. Despite his strong desire to paint, he couldn't think of anything. Coming up with nothing, he stood up and sighed._

I'll just practice some of the techniques that Mom taught me. _He picked up the paintbrush and began blending colors. He dipped the paintbrush in the red and blue paint and mixed them until he got the perfect shade of deep purple. He lifted the paintbrush onto the canvas and painted multiple lines in different strokes. After deciding he had enough practice painting in different strokes, he cleaned his brush and dipped it into the red paint. He began to practice painting simple shapes and shading them so that they looked three-dimensional._

_Although he couldn't quite realize it, Johnny had a true gift for art. He could paint and sketch better than most kids could at his age. His mother was an artist, and she was a good one, too. She had taught him everything he knew. When she was alive, she would always be surprised by his skills and encouraged him to continue making art. Johnny did so, for he had a passion for it._

_All of a sudden, the lights went out. Johnny was left engulfed by the darkness. At first, he didn't panic, for he assumed it was just a power outage. But if that were the case, the CD player, which was plugged in, would have not continued to play._

Don't panic, _Johnny thought to himself as he felt fear slowly churn in his stomach. _The bulb probably just burned out. _But that could not explain the ghastly feeling of someone's presence._

Don't be silly, Johnny, _he thought. _ No one is in here but you. _The maniacal giggle of a girl contradicted that idea._

_The lights flickered on and revealed a familiar redhead standing by the doorway, her hand on the light switch._

_"Hey there, kiddo," the girl cooed. "I'm so glad that I found you." She slowly pulled out a knife from her black, buckled boot._

_"You," Johnny whispered in a tremulous voice. He began to back away from her. He bumped into an easel, knocking it down. He lost his balance in the process and fell to the ground. A whimper of fear escaped his lips as he continued to back away. He felt tremendous fear consume him._

_The girl let out another giggle. "Your fear amuses me." She sighed. "But yes, it is me, the one who killed your beloved parents."_

_Johnny continued to scoot backwards until his back hit a wall. He had reached a dead end._

_"G-get away f-from me!" he cried out._

_"Now why would I do that?" the girl asked, placing her hands on her hips and tilting her head to the side._

_"B-because I'm only a child," Johnny replied._

I don't want to die. I don't want to die!

_The girl laughed bitterly. She walked towards him. Johnny, who was paralyzed with fear, did not move. The girl grabbed him by his hair and pulled him up. Johnny cried out in pain._

_"Look, kid," she hissed. She pointed her knife at his throat. "I've killed countless people before I killed your parents and never have I had a witness! You however, are a witness. By keeping you alive, I am risking getting caught, and I _never_ get caught!"_

_"Please don't kill me," Johnny pleaded. Tears began to rush down his cheeks._

_"Sorry, kid, but I can't take any chances." She raised the knife over her head and plunged it down at his heart._

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><p>Johnny woke up with a gasp, his thin body drenched in a cold sweat. His heart was pounding uncontrollably in his chest. He sat up and frantically scanned the room, his eyes wide with fright.<p>

"It was only... a... d-dream," he whispered, once he assured himself that the insane girl was not in his bedroom. He let out a sigh of relief and attempted to slow his frantic heartbeat.  
>Johnny began to tremble. He pulled his knees up to his chest. Whimpers escaped his lips. The dream was just so real...<p>

_Only a dream. Only a dream…_

He had heard her voice crystal clear and felt her grasp. He even felt the knife pierce his chest. The knife...

_If it was only a dream, then why am I still scared?_

Johnny buried his face in his knees and began to sob. Witnessing his parent's demise was enough; knowing the killer was out there was too much to bear.

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><p>"Oh, what a pity," said a shadow that was concealed in the darkness after watching the boy had cried himself to sleep. "We should keep him company, don't you think?"<p>

"Yes," said the shadow next to him, "I agree."

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><p>Johnny, dressed in his Sunday best, looked down at his bowl of cereal that sat before him. There were dark rings around his eyes from the lack of sleep. He did not have the desire to eat.<p>

"Eat up, you little brat," his aunt, Vera, said as she came into the dining room. She wore a tight-fitting black dress with a hem just below her knees, as well as a pair of black stilettos.

Johnny's eyes started to tear up again. He did not understand why she was so cruel to him on the day of his parents' funeral. He just sat there and stared at the soggy cereal. Vera's heels clicked on the wood floor as she strode quickly toward him.

"I said "eat", you little piece of shit," she hissed. Johnny shook his head. Vera grabbed him by the chin and turned his head so that Johnny was forced to look her in the eye. Johnny's heart pounded in fear and surprise. She had never laid a hand on him before.

"You look here, kid. This will be the only thing you're eating today. I have better things to spend my money on." She let go of Johnny's chin brusquely.

"Mommy and Daddy were nicer," he muttered in a small voice. His lip started trembling as tears threatened to spill.

"Well, Mommy and Daddy aren't here. They're gone, far away, dead; get it? Just because I'm your new guardian doesn't mean I have to treat you like they did!" Vera yelled. Tears trickled down Johnny's cheek.

"Great! Now you're crying. Well I have news for you, crybaby; crying gets you nowhere. Now get up, we have to be at the church." With that, she started walking toward the door, not even caring to wait for her young nephew. Johnny got up and followed her to her car.

"I don't want to hear you cry while we are in this car; understand?" Johnny nodded as he buckled his seat belt.

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><p>The funeral went by in a blur to little Johnny. It was like a dream, a nightmare. It was as if the whole situation was a revolting nightmare. He was dressed in his pajamas now, sitting on his bed. He clutched his teddy bear in his arms as tears streamed uncontrollably down his cheeks. He missed his parents terribly; he never felt so alone. Not even in school did he feel like this. Johnny did not have any friends; he was timid and enjoyed being left alone, but not like this. The odds were not in his favor. He sniffed and wiped away his tears.<p>

"At least I have you, Teddy," he said to the plush animal. With that, he pulled the sheets over him and cried himself to sleep.

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><p>"We did it, Psycho-Doughboy!" a shadowy, doughboy-shaped figure cried out. "This is just perfect, marvelous, superb!"<p>

"Yes, yes it is, Mr. Eff," Psycho-Doughboy, another doughboy-shaped figure, replied. "So we both agree that this Johnny-boy is a qualified candidate?"

"Qualified? This boy makes the _perfect _candidate!" Mr. Eff replied with a sinister grin. "He has witness such a horrifying event, he is treated poorly by his guardian, and he is terrified of a person who does not know he exists! All this stress could make a person insane! Oh, D-Boy, can't you see? His mind is more vulnerable and malleable than ever!"

"So he is," Psycho-Doughboy said with a laugh. "I assume the next step is to confront him?"

"You assumed correctly," Mr. Eff replied. "I say we wait until the morning. We don't want to disrupt him from the little amount of sleep he will be getting tonight."

"Yes, and it is obvious that you don't want to wait any longer." Psycho-Doughboy said.

"Can you blame me?" Mr. Eff replied. "Never have we found such an excellent candidate!"

"Alright," Psycho-Doughboy said with a mischievous smile. "Until tomorrow."

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><p><strong>A bit short in my opinion, but better than the last chapter. THE NEXT ONE IS BETTER! I already wrote it. All I need it do is edit it. Oh, and I apologize for being rude, Johnny.<br>**

**Nny: Apology accepted, I guess.  
><strong>

**Okay, so review, review, review! I crave them! Review and I'll give you a digital cherry brain freezy!  
><strong>


	4. Chapter 4: Two Unlikely Friends

**Author's Note: Hey there! I meant to upload this sooner, but I had a new idea for the ending and wrote more x] I think this may be one of the longest chapters I have written for this story. Since I'm on summer vacation, I'm going to try to upload more frequently. Before I forget, a picture I saw on a JtHM music video on youtube inspired me to write this chapter a while back. Unfortunately, the video was removed. It was a picture of Nny as a child with the Doughboys' shadow behind him. If you see it, please PM me the link. I feel like I should give credit to the artist. I don't have much to say today. How about you, Johnny? Any words for the readers out there?**

**Nny: You take a long time to write chapters for this.  
><strong>

**Me: *sigh* Yes, I know. Hey, want to do the disclaimer?  
><strong>

**Nny: Not really.  
><strong>

**Me: Pretty please?  
><strong>

**Nny: Fine. The Girl Who Questions Sleep does not own anything but the plot and some OCs.  
><strong>

**Me: Enjoy!**

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><p>Johnny woke up at the crack of dawn. Unlike most children, he did not try to fall asleep again. He kind of enjoyed waking up early. It gave him more time to do as he pleased. However, today was not a normal day. He felt awfully depressed over his parent's death. It had only been a couple of days since they left this world. All he wanted to do was curl up into a ball under his bed sheets and sob a river, but he had to be strong. Deep down, he knew that his parents would hate to see him like that. What if they could see him? He didn't want to break their dead heart. He forced himself to sit up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Taking in a deep breath, he stretched his arms over his head.<p>

He got out of bed and walked over to his dresser. He searched through the drawers and picked out his outfit for the day. He pulled on a black and white striped, long sleeved, tailed shirt and black jeans. He sat down by his bed and grabbed his black, knee high, steel-toed boots. Swiftly, he pulled them on and got up.

Johnny walked over to the bathroom to run a brush through his blue-black hair. It didn't take long to fix his hair. It stuck out in odd angles naturally, and that's just the way he liked it.

As quiet as a phantom, he walked downstairs. He did not want to risk waking up Vera. Just as he suspected, Vera was sprawled on the couch, completely intoxicated. A bottle of whiskey sat on the coffee table near the couch. Johnny's nose wrinkled at the pungent smell of alcohol. How he hated that vile smell! He shook his head in disappointment. His aunt looked pathetic in that state. At that moment, he swore to himself that he will never let any substance get the best of him. He sighed and went back upstairs to his room.

Once in his room, Johnny plopped down onto his bed and lay there, utterly bored. There was not much for him to do in this building he was forced to call "home". He began to think of things he could do. If he didn't think of something soon, he knew he would burst into tears. After pondering for a moment, he decided he would draw.

Johnny got up to find his folder full of blank paper and his pencil box. As he walked over to his dresser, he noticed his calendar on the wall. He paused to examine it. It was October 8th, his birthday. Johnny was now eight years old. He sighed and sat on the floor. This was his first birthday he would be spending without his parents. His eyes were beginning to glisten with fresh tears. Just as they were about to fall, something shiny caught his eye. Wiping his eyes, he turned his head to see the object. It was a knife.

Johnny crawled towards the knife in curiosity. He sat down in front of it and inspected the knife. The bottom of the blade was curved. The handle was blue and had a smiley face. He started to reach for the knife, but he stopped himself.

_No, Nny, it's dangerous, _Johnny told himself. _But what else can I do with it, watch it from a distance? Yes, I suppose that will do. _

Johnny just sat there and observed it with fascination. Almost immediately, he thought of his deceased parents.

_I wonder if that evil girl owns knives like that one. I wonder how sharp that is. I would touch it, but didn't Daddy say, "Curiosity killed the cat"?_

* * *

><p>"Now, Eff?" Psycho-Doughboy whispered.<p>

"Now," Eff whispered back with a malicious smile on his face.

* * *

><p>Two short, shadowy figures peeled themselves from the shadows in the small room. They were as black as a void and colder than Antarctica. Their eyes were glowing white orbs. They walked over to Johnny and stood behind him.<p>

"That's right child, pick it up," one of the shadows coaxed.

"There are some people who need it, Johnny." Johnny looked over his shoulder and gasped. He ran to the back of the room and pressed his back against the wall.

"Who… who… are… y-you two?" he asked pointing a tremulous finger at them. Johnny could not make out what the two shadows were. They looked so familiar, yet he couldn't place his finger on it. Wait, yes he could. They looked like the shadows of the mascot for that one company, the one that makes muffins. Yes, they even had chef hats. But what were they doing in his room?

"Oh, Johnny, you have nothing to fear. We are only here to fill that emptiness in your heart. We will never do such a thing as to harm you, for we know how much pain you are in. Consider us to be an antidote to this pain and loneliness," said the shadow on the right.

"Oh yes, Johnny, only we will be much more than that. Won't you be our friend?" said the other. Johnny hesitated.

"Well… it would be nice to have friends…" Johnny said as he began to go deep into thought. The shadows walked towards him.

"Yes, yes it would, wouldn't it, Johnny?" The shadow on the left said. "It can get quite lonely out in the world."

"Wait a minute," Johnny said as he snapped back into reality. He glared at the shadows with suspicion. "How do you know my name?"

"Well, it's a bit of a long story," the shadow on the right said as he rubbed the back of his head.

"Long story short, we live here too!" the other shadow exclaimed happily.

"Does my aunt know you're here?" Johnny questioned.

"No, but that's what made this room so perfect. She rarely came into this room. People would freak out if they saw two shadows walking around and talking to each other," one of the shadows replied.

"I suppose you have a point..." Johnny mumbled.

"Hey, we didn't tell you who we are; how rude of us! Before we continue our little conversation, why don't we introduce ourselves? My name is Mr. Fuck, but "fuck" is such a dirty word. You may call me Mr. Eff or simply Eff," said one of the shadows.

"Yes, and my name is Psycho-Doughboy, or D-Boy for short," said the other shadow.

Johnny relaxed a bit and sat down on the floor.

"Um… hi, Mr. Eff and D-Boy. Um… you can call me Nny if you want," he replied.

"Nny, huh? Not bad; I like it. Anyway, back to our discussion," Mr. Eff said. "You said it would be nice to have friends, and we agree."

"Just think about it, the only friend I have is Mr. Eff and I'm his only friend. And all you have is your teddy bear and that bitch downstairs," Psycho-Doughboy reasoned. Mr. Eff elbowed him in the arm and glared at him. "Whoops, potty mouth! Please excuse my language. As I was saying, we would like it if we had another friend, and- if we are correct- you need another friend in this world too. What do you say, boy?"

Johnny looked down at the floor and pondered. He didn't have a friend that he could have a conversation with, and his aunt is not a pleasant person. He looked up at the shadows.

"Okay," he replied with a smile.

"Splendid! Now tell us, why are you so very depressed?" Mr. Eff asked gently. Johnny stood up abruptly and crossed his arms.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said in an angered tone. Tears once again threatened to spill from his dark brown eyes.

"Oh come on, Nny. We only ask because we want to know you better. You can tell us _anything_. We are here for you, boy." D-Boy said. Johnny sat on his bed and sighed.

"It's a long story," he whispered.

"We have all the time in the world, Johnny," Mr. Eff assured.

Johnny lied down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He told them everything: the night his parents were brutally murdered, the next morning when Vera picked him up, how Vera hated him, his loneliness, and how he was spending his birthday without his parents. The doughboys listened to every single word the boy spoke.

"It appears that you have been through a lot in a matter of a couple of days. This is why we are here, to help you feel better," Mr. Eff said reassuringly. Johnny wiped his tears away.

"Thank you. It feels like it's been forever since I had someone to care for me," Johnny said. "By the way, how did you find this place?"

"Well you see, we roam around and blend in with natural shadows. There has never been a reason for us to stay at one place. We just happened to be here when you arrived," D-boy explained.

"Guess I got lucky," Johnny said with a small smile.

"Yes you did, Johnny. But it seems that we have gone off topic since the first time we spoke to you," Psycho-Doughboy said.

"Very off topic," Eff agreed. "You see, just like your aunt downstairs, there are people in the world who just take up space on the planet. They are just not needed here. Their lives are just a waste. All they bring upon the human race is pain and misery. You have seen a good example of this, Nny. This is why we need you to eliminate the scum around you."

"I don't know. Am I the right person for this? I'm only eight."

"Nonsense, you are the perfect person for the job," Psycho-Doughboy assured him.

"If you say so… How do I do that?"

"Easy, just end their life," Mr. Eff said a bit too cheerfully. Johnny's eyes went wide.

"You want me to kill people?" he exclaimed. He jumped out of his bed and started to step back away from them, but his back hit the wall.

"Oh Johnny, it's not like you will take innocent souls away," Mr. Eff explained. Johnny looked uncertain and his body was tense with fear.

"Johnny, because of these filthy souls inside masses of flesh, your parents are gone. You can prevent that from happening to another child," D-Boy said. It was obvious in his tone that he was trying not to speak harshly to the boy. Johnny stepped away from the wall and sat down on the floor. He started to ponder about what the Doughboys had said.

"I don't know; killing is a bad thing to do."

"Not when you are eliminating bad people. We would do it ourselves, but we are just not strong enough. And don't worry: we'll help you learn how to spot the bad people," said Mr. Eff.

Johnny was tempted to say yes. How nice it would be to stop people from murdering others. And who knows, he might even have a chance at killing the girl who took his parents' lives.

"I'll do it," Johnny whispered, donning a dark, mischievous smile.

* * *

><p>Sitting on a blood stained couch, a possessed rag doll watched the television with an unamused expression. The doll had long black and red yarn for hair and scarlet buttons for eyes. She donned a black silk dress with wide sleeves, a corset top with red ribbon, and a hem that brushed the floor. On her feet were black leather shoes. She was about to turn the TV off when an interesting news report popped up. Her eyes widened with interest and the stitch line that was her mouth curled up into a baleful smile.<p>

"Alice, come here and watch the news with me!" the rag doll shouted in a slightly enthusiastic tone.

"Don't tell me what to do," a redheaded girl snarled under her breath as she climbed up the final steps from the basement. Her fiery hair, porcelain skin, and clothes contained stains of fresh blood.

"Whatever," the doll replied with a scowl. "Pardon me for thinking you would like to see one of your murders on the news."

"One of _my _murders?" Alice asked. Her eyes lit up with attentiveness. She immediately ran over to the couch and plopped down next to her rag doll.

"Is that not what I just said?" the doll asked in an annoyed tone.

"Oh, goodie! Which one, which one?" Alice asked with the excitement of a child.

"Just shut up and watch the TV," the doll hissed.

Alice pouted and turned her attention to the glowing screen. The serious attitude of the news reporters never failed to amuse her.

_"Two days ago, the bodies of a young couple were discovered in their bedroom. The bodies are reported to be the corpses of Marisol and Johnathan Cheshire..."_

The pictures of the now deceased couple that appeared on the screen confirmed that the reporters were informing their viewers of her most recent act of homicide. With a sigh, Alice closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Nelly, may you please change the channel. I do not want to relive this one," she asked in a soft voice.

"Why not?" the rag doll asked in bewilderment. "You always like to watch the news coverage of your murders!"

"Yeah, when the so called "victims" aren't innocent," she responded. "I killed that couple because I was desperate to find blood..."

"Oh, come on! Everyone is guilty of something!" Nelly reasoned.

"No, there are virtuous people out there!" Alice shouted. "I bet this couple was an example of fine citizens..."

"Well, maybe you'll find out if you just watch the damn TV!" Nelly yelled as she began to lose her temper.

"Fine..." Alice mumbled. She returned her attention to the television.

_"...The motive of the crime is unclear. Both victims did not have a criminal record and were locally known for being a peaceful pair..."_

"SEE!" Alice shouted as she stood up and pointed to the screen. "I was right!"

"Oh, shut the hell up. Think of them as being heroes for saving us from being mauled by IT," Nelly grumbled. She returned her gaze to the screen.

"I hate you," Alice muttered. She rested the back of her head on the couch and closed her eyes.

The dull reporters went on. However, Alice blocked out every word they spoke. She did not want to hear what they had to say about the innocent couple. The words would just make her feel even guiltier than she already felt. She began to think of her unfinished homework when she felt something tug incessantly at the purple sleeve of her shirt. She opened one eye to see Nelly tugging her sleeve with one hand and pointing to the TV with another.

"Hey, Alice, who's that kid?" the doll asked with a puzzled expression on her face.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Alice grumbled. She opened her other eye and looked over to the screen.

_"...To add to the tragedy, Mr. and Mrs. Cheshire left behind their eight year old son..."_

Alice sat up straight and watched the screen attentively. The television showed a picture of a little boy with big brown eyes and blue-black hair. She stood up and stepped closer to the screen to get a closer look.

"N-Nelly?" she croaked. She lifted up a tremulous hand and pointed a finger at the television. "Did I hear that correctly?"

"About the child?" Nelly asked with slight confusion.

"Yeah... that..." Alice replied in a tremulous voice.

"Oh," Nelly said as her lips slowly curled into an evil grin. "Then yes, you did hear correctly."

"No, no, no," Alice whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head in disbelief. "No, this can't be happening..."

"Oh, but it is, my dear Alice," Nelly said with a manic giggle.

Clutching her head, Alice began to shake her head violently. The news finally sank in. She could feel the room begin to spin and her knees grow weak. Whimpers of fright began to escape her lips. She did not fear the consequences of her actions. Even if she wanted to, she could not get caught. Instead, she feared the monster that she was becoming.

Alice fell to her knees and hung her head with sorrow. Her red hair hung over her face like a veil. She bit her lip to hinder herself from sobbing. Because of her crime, she had left an innocent boy an orphan like her.

A rag doll walked into the room as she mutters something about Nelly under her breath. Her blue and black striped hair was held up in ratty pigtails. She wore a black, satin, off-the-shoulder gown. Its corset top contained blue ribbon and the skirt puffed out slightly. Her small feet were donned in leather shoes. Upon seeing Alice in such a fragile state, she stopped in her tracks and gasped. Her blue button eyes went wide in shock and worry.

"Alice, my dear, are you alright?" she asked in a gentle tone.

Fearing that she would break down if she spoke, Alice responded by shaking her head. However, her attempt to remain calm failed, for she began to weep. Her body shook uncontrollably as she let her tears gush down her cheeks. Hoping to stops the tremors, she wrapped her arms around her slender body. She opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling. Her eyes glistened tears of guilt, regret, and grief.

"What have I done?"

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><p><strong>Ooooooh the murderer has been exposed! I got the idea of the rag dolls from Zosomoto's dolls on deviantart. I want to give credit to her too. So tell me what you guys think. Remember to review. REVIEW! I can not stress that enough. I crave them more than I crave for cherry ICEEs! Those things are fucking delicious! Once again, please review. I will still send virtual brain freezies if you review :3 Thanks for reading!<br>**


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